The Ice Cold Truth
by HarleyQuinn Milton
Summary: mostly from Loki's POV; the story begins with the end of the talk between Loki and Odin. Loki begins to feel that his life is a lie and believe that numerous things were his fault... Will the belief that he is bad drive him madness? or will his newborn son Jormungandr help him to crack through the belief? rated T for moderate language


(Loki's POV)

I shouted for the guards to help him. I panicked as a guard stayed with Odin while another went to get help from the palace healers. I sat on the step beside him, my mind raced; I had been angry with him but had never wanted to force the sleep on faster!

The guard looked up at me as I lay a hand over Odin's.

"My Prince?" the guard spoke firmly yet gently, I lifted my own head to speak. "What happened?"

I froze at his words as my heart began to race. Footsteps were coming closer; I lifted my head up to see several healers rush to his side. I hastily moved away and watched as he was lifted onto a stretcher and taken away.

My eyes grew wide and I followed the healers and the guards, keeping up with the pace, my breath catching in my throat time and time again.

I saw a flicker of pale gold fabric from a corridor opposite as my mother ran towards the healers, as she saw me she immediately ran over, asking questions; what happened? Why where you in the weapons vault? Why do you look so distressed?

A healer spoke to her as we arrived outside their chambers. I stood beside the wall, I felt sick, dizzy and shaken as I struggled to keep a tear from rolling down my cheek.

My mother had finished speaking to the healer who looked up at me, giving me a worried concerned expression before bowing to us and entering the room. My mother gestured to the healer that she would be back soon and took my forearm gently, leading me to my chambers; the doors of which were already open.

We entered my room and I sat on the divan at the foot of my bed. I couldn't bring myself to look at her in the eyes, she wasn't my real mother, I knew that- but I felt strong knowing I could speak to her, knowing that she loved me.

"I know" I muttered as a tear ran down my cheek, "I know that I'm not really your son."

(Frigga's POV)

I could see tears running down his cheeks, staining them, my youngest son was not mine from birth but I raised him to be my own. He was still mine.

I froze as I remembered the moment when Odin had returned with the baby in his arms, tiny hands which were blue at the tips, as he had passed him to me I immediately felt attached to him.

Now that tiny baby was a grown man, it broke my heart seeing him cry and felt it would be better calming him and allowing him to be on his own to rest for a while.

I moved up to sit on the divan beside him; I removed his armour and took his coat off his back, standing to put them on the mannequin beside the door. I turned quickly when I heard him say something that saddened me deeply;

"I hurt him. I pushed the sleep on faster by rejecting everything; I was angry but- I never meant to hurt him!"

I hurried over to him, holding the back of his head as I moved him into the crook of my neck. His cries were muffled against me as I whispered to him that everything would be fine. He held his arms around me gently as I felt him becoming steadily heavy against my shoulder.

Loki was now barely opening his eyes, he removed his boots and stood with me. I moved up to the bed and moved the covers down, watching as he got in and stroking his hair as he settled.

(Loki's POV)

My eyes felt heavy as I started to remove my boots, I stood with my mother who moved my covers down on the bed and stood waiting for me; a small smile on her face to show she still loved me.

I got into the bed, breathing deeply as I lay on my side away from her, the covers were put back over me and I moved my outstretched hand through the fur throw on the bed. She stayed with me for a while, sitting on the bed; stroking and kissing my head.

There was a dull knock at my door and I felt her stand up as she walked to the door.

She opened it and talked to a female healer, I recognised her voice; she was the healer to my youngest son Jormungandr.

DAMN! Through all the stress of worrying about my brother's mindless actions, the pull towards the Jotunheim casket and realising the truth I had forgotten why I had to stay strong…

There was a cry that pulled on my heartstrings as well as my last nerve.

Wiping the last few tears from my face; I sat up in bed. I took in a deep breath and smiled at the healer at the door who bowed to my mother before walking to me carrying the tiny baby in her arms.

"How has he been?" I asked huskily as I took him from her with a smile. She smiled back, handing me a bottle of goat's milk and mouse blood; "perfect my prince; he has been feeding regularly and his temperature is back to normal."

I smiled wider. "Thank you for caring for him for so long- you are a great help." As I finished my words I saw a blush to the healer's cheeks as she smiled and bowed to me. She walked away from me and bowed to Frigga who smiled.

I felt a small hand tug at the fabric of my loose shirt at my chest, I gently tilted the bottle my son's tiny lips and watched in utmost joy as he began to suckle.

Frigga ran her hand over Jormungandr's head and smiled wide.

" you are not a bad person Loki." She said to me with a small smile, answering a question I had asked the night before my brother's big day. I smiled but looked up at her, "I must be though- look at what happened with father-"

She silenced me with a beam and leant down to me, whispering in my ear;

"If you were a bad person- you wouldn't be caring for someone as small as the child you hold arms right now. If you were a bad person you would have left him to suffer."

The thought of allowing either of my sons to suffer made me recoil.

"If you were a bad person- would you be holding someone as precious and fragile as Jormungandr in your arms?"

I shook my head and smiled up at her, then back down at my son. He slept peacefully in my arms, his head curved in against my chest, his tiny hands light blue at his fingertips.

I kissed my mother and gently lay Jormungandr in the cot beside my bed, putting a hand on the side to rock it. Tears of joy ran down my cheeks as I felt him grasp a finger in his hand tightly.


End file.
